


Need a Hand?

by Lovefushsia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Stiles Stilinski Helps Derek Hale, a bit of blood, and bed sharing happens, injured derek, not in the bed omg, tagging is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 22:40:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15059357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovefushsia/pseuds/Lovefushsia
Summary: Instead of going to Jennifer, a bloodied Derek slams into Stiles' jeep instead. Stiles helps him back to the loft.





	Need a Hand?

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I’m not leaving until I know you’re not gonna die on me,” Stiles huffed out, keeping his arm firmly around Derek’s torn up waist, and Derek shuffled more than walked down the final steps into his loft.

“Everyone around me… gets hurt,” Derek grunted as they made it to the bed.

“I’ve been hurt before,” Stiles told him, straightening up, hands in his lower back as he stretched it out. 

“Not like this,” Derek said, looking up at him from the pillow. “This is serious Stiles, the Alphas-”

“Derek, I’m not a kid, I know what kind of life this is - I’m already in it. So don’t-” he sighed, frustrated, pained just looking at Derek’s wounds. “Don’t push me away.”

“Stiles, you’re not safe here, if they come for me - I won’t be able to protect you.”

Stiles raised his eyebrows at that. “You think I’m here for your protection?” Derek shook his head, trying to move again and failing. “Just, stay down, will you?”

He looked Derek over for a moment, wanting to look more closely at the gashes on his chest but also not, because, blood. “Can you get your shirt off..?” Derek raised an eyebrow at him and Stiles didn’t know how he had the energy. “Come on, I need to see what’s going on. Maybe you’ve started healing.”

Derek started to push himself up but didn’t get very far and Stiles took the couple of steps to his side and helped with an arm under his shoulders. Once he was sitting, hands resting on the edge of the mattress, Stiles motioned to the hem of his shirt. “Want me to…?” It was a mark of just how exhausted Derek was that he merely rolled his eyes and raised his arms up above his head, flinching as he did it. Stiles was quick to grab the shirt, carefully as he could and pull it up and off so Derek could lower his arms. 

“This wasn’t exactly how I imagined spending my Saturday night, but since I’m here…” Stiles sat back on his haunches. “I’m gonna get a towel, do you have any old shirts you don’t mind me tearing up?”

Derek frowned at him. “I’ll be fine, Stiles, you don’t need-” 

Stiles ignored him, already rummaging through Derek’s drawers, pulling out a ragged shirt which had definitely seen better days. “This one?”

Derek just glared.

“Ok then,” Stiles said to himself, and tried to tear into the shirt, failing completely and taking it to the kitchen to find some scissors. After a few minutes he came back with his makeshift bandages, a bowl of clean water and a towel. He found Derek in the same position, eyes closed, or maybe just staring blankly at the floor, the loft was too dark to see properly. 

“Ok, this might work better with you sitting actually, so…” He paused, realising now that he was about to have to deal with a whole lot of blood, in addition to a close up of Derek’s body that he would have preferred to imagine happening in very different circumstances. And he really didn’t want to hurt Derek in the process, but he couldn’t sit here and look at the state of his wounds any longer. 

He took a calming breath and dipped one corner of the towel into the bowl. Derek stirred then, raising his chin, stretching a little, revealing his stomach and the torn flesh there. Stiles felt his eyes on him as he brought the towel to Derek’s skin and began to gently dab at it. If he could at least get some of the blood off it might look better, might start to heal up. Derek flinched at the first touch and Stiles drew back, apologised. 

“It’s ok, ‘s fine,” Derek grunted, and Stiles took that as an ok to continue. The towel came away more bloody each time, Stiles rinsed it in the bowl until that was filled with blood-red water and he went to change it. When he came back Derek was still sitting, just about. Another few gentle presses of the towel and Stiles couldn’t see the wounds getting any cleaner. He picked up the bandage strips and began to wrap them around Derek’s torso, careful to cover all the wounds, not make it too tight. He stuck the ends with some duct tape he’d found under the kitchen counter. “Who knew - best invention ever, isn’t it?” he said, but Derek wasn’t in a very communicative mood.

Once Stiles had finished he sat back and looked at his handy-work. “Hey, that’s not bad,” he told himself. “I think even Scott’s mom would approve.”

Derek groaned quietly and Stiles jumped into action again as he moved, looking like he wanted to lie back down. “Here,” he said, placing a hand on Derek’s shoulder and one on his back and helping him. 

“Thank you,” he said, once he was lying flat, pillow under his head. Stiles just stood there gaping at him, hand behind his head, dragging through his hair as he tried to remember a time Derek had thanked him for anything.

“Ah, yeah, that’s- that’s no problem.”

Derek had his eyes closed and Stiles tore his eyes away from his half naked, glistening -wounded- torso, and gathered up the blood soaked towel and bowl. He cleared them away into the kitchen, finding a couple bottles of water and taking them back to the bed.

Derek looked like he might be sleeping but Stiles wasn’t convinced. He should sleep though, sleep made everything better. At least that’s what his mom had always told him.

He was still standing, there, idly looking at Derek and wondering how long he was going to take to heal when Derek cracked an eye open and glared at him.

“Stiles.”

“Uh, yeah? Sorry, I-”

“I’ve only got one bed. Are you gonna lie down?”

“I thought you wanted me to leave?”

“I don’t want you going out there alone right now.”

“I can take you back to my place, maybe.”

“I’m not strong enough, I can hardly even sit up.”

“Ok, so we’re gonna risk it here until morning?”

“Stiles, do you want to leave?” Derek asked, glaring at him now and Stiles swallowed. 

“Not without you, no.”

“Well, then.”

And that was that. Derek was only taking up half of the mattress so Stiles sat on the other side and carefully lay down, trying not to disturb him, but then he realised he wouldn’t be comfy if he didn’t take at least some of his clothes off so he sat up again, kicked off his shoes and pulled off his hoodie, deciding to wait until daylight to see if he’d got any bloodstains on it, before lying back again, turning to see Derek watching again and jumping in alarm.

“Sorry,” he whispered. 

Derek sighed and closed his eyes again.

Stiles tried to sleep but he couldn’t stop his mind whirling with how Derek had just shown up next to his jeep, slapping a bloodied hand against the window and then collapsing. It had taken all Stiles’ efforts to heft him into the jeep, then dealing with Derek’s demands that he take him to the loft and nowhere else. By the time he’d got him up there Stiles had been ready to collapse himself, adrenaline making sure he didn’t - he should be asleep by all accounts. 

But sleeping beside the furnace that was Derek, especially when he was half naked and clearly not his usual self, Stiles just couldn’t do it.

“Your heart is racing,” Derek said, making Stiles twitch in surprise. 

“Sorry?” Stiles said, feeling defensive all of a sudden. He couldn’t help it if he was only human, he couldn’t get rid of his desires just because he  _ should _ .

“Just try to calm down, get some rest.”

“I’m just-” Stiles waved his hands around, “just feeling a little fraught, from everything.”

Derek turned onto his side, moving more easily than he had been earlier on. “Is that the only problem?” he asked, eyes intent on Stiles’ face.

“Yu-huh,” Stiles murmured.

“Because, I have noticed, you know?”

“Noticed what?” Stiles whispered.

“How, whenever we’re near each other, you get more anxious, more jittery.”

Stiles frowned. “You make me nervous, I guess.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re a werewolf? Because you’ve threatened to kill me more times than I could count? I dunno Derek, let’s see what we can tick off, shall we?”

“I don’t want to kill you. I want to keep you safe.”

“Yeah, well, that’s just circumstantial, isn’t it.”

Derek’s hand swept out and grabbed Stiles’ wrist. “No, no it’s not. I want you to be safe. I need you to be safe.”

Stiles’ heart was frantic now and he tried to sit up but Derek’s grip was too firm. He shook his arm instead and Derek released him. “Why? You’ve never said anything about that. Never made me think that you appreciate me even, at least, not until tonight.”

“Well, maybe I just needed a shove in the right direction.”

“Wait, wait,” Stiles said, as Derek just stared at him. How was he so cool and calm when he’d nearly died -again- and the only person he’d been able to reach for help was Stiles? “How are you so cool about all this?” he finally blurted.

Derek shrugged a shoulder. “Because I’m with you,” he said simply.

Stiles swallowed hard. “Not exactly helping my heart rate here,” he said, voice very unsteady.

Derek reached across and took his hand this time, just linking their fingers together. “You’ll be ok, just keep breathing.”

Stiles nodded. He could do that. He wasn’t sure about much more than that though, especially when Derek pushed up onto an elbow and cupped his jaw. “Thank you, Stiles. For getting me back here, for patching me up.”

“Anytime, dude,” Stiles whispered. 

Derek moved in close, nudging his nose against Stiles’ before his lips touched Stiles’ cheek, stubble brushing against his skin and he shivered when Derek reached his ear. 

Derek withdrew, his hand dropping to the mattress and just looking intently at Stiles. “Sorry, I should have asked.”

Stiles eyes went wide. “No, no, it’s good, you can do that - you can do more than that.”

Derek smiled at him and nodded. “Ok, good to know.” And then he began placing more kisses down along his jaw and Stiles couldn’t think straight, he could only lean into Derek, grasp his hand tightly and remember what Derek said about breathing.

“Stiles,” Derek murmured, kissing his neck, thumbing over his cheekbone. 

_ Oh God _ it was almost too much, Stiles had never had such attention before, he could hardly understand what was happening, but he didn’t want to make any sudden moves incase it stopped. 

Eventually he couldn’t repress a groan any longer and Derek’s lips were suddenly so close to Stiles’ there was maybe a centimetre between them as he studied Stiles’ face. “You ok?” Derek asked softly, stroking his cheek again, fingers tickling along Stiles’ hairline. 

Stiles nodded. “Yes, fuck yes, I’m great, I’m-” 

Derek kissed him then, lips cutting off Stiles’ words and Stiles eagerly met the kiss with everything he had, soft presses turning to light nips and before he knew it Derek’s tongue was in his mouth and he thought he might come in his pants right then. 

He pushed against Derek’s shoulders. “Wait, wait,” he hissed, trying for composure but feeling the sweat beading on his forehead and his pulse throbbing. Derek backed off instantly and lay staring at Stiles, chest rising and falling rapidly which made Stiles feel a little calmer actually. “This isn’t some weird reaction to almost dying, is it? I mean you must have been nearly torn in half in that fall. Are you really ok?”

“Stiles, I’m good, this isn’t anything but me showing you I want you.”

“Oh, right, ok then.”

“I want you,” Derek repeated. “Do you want this?” he asked, ever so slightly tentative and Stiles nodded firmly, eyebrows drawn into a serious frown. “So, can I kiss you?”

Stiles licked his lips and nodded again and Derek pulled him in, licking straight over his bottom lip and into his mouth.

Stiles groaned again and his hands slid gently onto Derek’s shoulders, trying to avoid letting his brain know that he was touching Derek: Derek’s hot, smooth skin and the muscles under there that he had wanted to lick for so long and suddenly he could touch, he could feel… He felt himself nudged backwards and he held a little harder to Derek to make sure he stayed as close as he could. Derek’s lips were still pressed firmly onto Stiles’ and he didn’t think he’d gone this long without voicing his feelings for some time, and finally he had to push up and end the kiss and just stare into Derek’s face again because it was ridiculous that they were doing this. Derek’s blood was still on the sheets, Stiles had patched him up less than an hour ago and less than an hour ago he had no idea that those feelings he had whenever they were close - the lack of sense his words made around the guy, the way he wanted to kiss the lips that always told him where his plan would go wrong - that apparently Derek now wanted to do the same to Stiles? And how long had that been going on?

With that thought prominent for a moment, he blurted out, “I’ve wanted you since I first saw you in the woods.”

“Really?” Derek said, and he was frowning a little, watching Stiles with a careful reservedness that made Stiles want to go on.

“Yeah, I know, that would have been weird, I mean illegal even, so I know you never would have felt that way about me, not back then, but now though - you kind of might? Is that really what this is? You really want to kiss me and you’re sure it’s not just because I helped you, or-”

“You’re going to be questioning this all the way, aren’t you,” Derek stated, and hell yeah he was right about that.

“I don’t know how to stop myself,” Stiles told him truthfully. He couldn’t normally stop unwanted thoughts tormenting him, this was surely going to be way worse - the expectation that he could suddenly believe that Derek, Derek actual Hale, wanted him?

“More,” Derek said simply, and pulled him in for another kiss. 

“Practice?” Stiles gasped out after another minute, feeling his whole body heat up as they kept touching. “Yeah, that might work,” he added, and kissed Derek again. “I mean I don’t have much experience, you know, so maybe that’s why I’m like this, and you know-” Oh God that felt good on his neck, was that Derek’s  _ tongue _ ? “-fuck… what- yeah, maybe you just need to keep doing that and I’ll start to believe it.”

“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek told him softly between kisses.

“I can’t, you’ll have to make me.”

Derek loomed over him quite suddenly and Stiles’ stomach flipped, a close up of this man’s face, just of his presence so close, in any situation, was kind of terrifyingly hot. Right now? Stiles would estimate he had maybe four minutes before it was all over. If he’d been in his bedroom, hand around himself, trying and failing to get the images of Derek out of his mind, he’d be close, so close to losing it. With Derek right here… he had to screw his eyes closed for a second until he felt Derek’s lips against his and then he just had to look. 

They kissed, a long, deep kiss which had Stiles breathing harshly through his nose and feeling lightheaded and he had to push at Derek’s chest again and really he was going to offended by that soon Stiles knew it. They stared at each other as Stiles dragged in some more air. “What do you want to do?” Stiles asked, panting out breaths and running his fingers gently along Derek’s collar bones. 

Derek raised his eyebrows and grinned a little. 

Stiles watched wide eyed as he palmed himself through his jeans and took Stiles’ hand to move it to his own cock. “Oh.”

Derek nodded, his hand moving in slow rubbing motions against the solid erection Stiles could see through the tight fabric of his jeans. 

“You, uh, need a hand with those, or..?”

Derek grinned again but shook his head, slowly leaning back and flicking open the top button of his fly. 

Stiles swallowed hard and his hand moved of its own well-practiced accord as he watched, tongue peaking out to lick at his dry lips. As Derek got a hand inside his now opened jeans, Stiles didn’t hold back, tearing open his own pants and taking hold of himself. Derek leaned in and slipped his free hand around the back of Stiles’ neck and stroked gently as Stiles met him for a kiss. He sighed softly as he jerked himself, pressed his forehead to Derek’s and looked down so he could see what Derek was doing too, he knew he had only seconds. He didn’t slow, because as soon as he’d come he was going to give Derek a hand. Literally. 

So, instead of trying to stop his racing orgasm, he pulled Derek in for another kiss, shoving his tongue in with little finesse and his hand slid over his cock as if he had money riding on the speed of the end result - definitely not on his stamina - and watched with stilted breaths as Derek’s hand made its own rhythm and he groaned into another kiss as he came all over his fist, all over Derek’s sheets.

Derek kissed him through it and as soon as Stiles could move he shoved a little too hard at Derek’s shoulder and with a surprised huff of breath, Derek allowed himself to be pressed back against the mattress, Stiles kissed him and then nodded to where Derek’s hand was still at work. “Can I?” he asked, breathless, and Derek nodded.

Stiles reached down and wrapped his fingers around Derek’s hand, adding a little pressure, stroking over Derek’s knuckles, thumbing the head of his cock, earning a stuttering sigh from Derek which he would remember forever as the softest sound he had ever heard Derek make. It spurred him on and he eased his fingers between Derek’s so he could feel more of that smooth, sleek, bigger-than-his cock, in his own hand. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Stiles told him, finally able to let the man know what he’d been thinking since they’d first met, and all the months since when he thought of Derek as the guy who found him irritating, at best. At worst it seemed as if the guy despised him, or at least his ideas anyway.

Now here they were, seemingly effortlessly fitting together into each others’ hands. Stiles felt his cock stir again at the thought, at the feel of Derek against his fingers, soft skin over solid flesh and he wondered if this was a one time thing and his heart stuttered and Derek held him closer, kissed him harder until Stiles felt him tense in his arms. Stiles held to his shoulder with his free hand, tried to do everything at once, watch their hands on his cock, watch his face, his eyes as he came close, as he let himself go - Stiles had seen him fight, get beaten down, stay as strong as any man could hope to under torture. He had seen him angry and dying - this was something else entirely and Stiles gasped right along with him as Derek came into their joined hands and lay back breathing heavily.

“Oh God. Oh my God I’ve never seen anything that hot. And I’ve watched a lot of porn. That right there? That was the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

Derek opened one eye and smirked up at him. “Do you think you can sleep now?”

“After that, are you kidding?” Stiles sighed. “Wait, that’s not why you… just to make me sleep?”

Derek pulled him in with a hand grasped in the front of his post-orgasm sweat damp tshirt. “No.” He kissed him. “But I need to sleep to heal, and you need to sleep because you look like you haven’t in a week.”

Stiles drew back and was about to tell him how unfairly harsh that was when Derek shushed him again with a kiss and said, “Sleep.”

Stiles hmmm’d at him with narrowed eyes, but he lay down, his head close to Derek’s on the pillow, watching his face, calm and beautiful, not betraying any of the hurt he was surely feeling after the night he’d had.

“Thanks for coming to me,” Stiles whispered. “For trusting me.”

Derek whispered back, “It was an easy choice.” 

Just as Stiles closed his eyes he heard Derek’s soft voice say his name. 

“Yeah?” he said, voice barely there, blinking open his eyes. 

“Stay until morning?”

Stiles almost laughed at the very idea that he would leave. “Not going anywhere,” he promised. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for the kudos and comments, it’s really made my day <3


End file.
